


Glass Roses

by EmyBunny



Category: Captain America (Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Barista Darcy, Coffee Shops, Enchanted swords, Eventual Smut, F/M, Magic Forests, Prophecy, Snow White Elements, Southern Gothic, Visions, Where Bucky is Snow White, Witch Curses, Witches, and Darcy is the prince, cursed bucky, small town
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-19 17:31:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11902665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmyBunny/pseuds/EmyBunny
Summary: Darcy has had visions her whole life, of one thing or another. She can tell you something that might happen, but she can't tell you when or where. So when she starts seeing visions of a man in a glass coffin, she doesn't think much of it. Not all of her visions lead to anything, after all.But when people begin disappearing around her small town, Darcy believes it has something to do with this man. When she finds him, however, she discovers that there may be more to this than she had originally thought. Something more sinister is at play and this man may be her only key to finding the lost townsfolk.





	1. Small Oddities

Candles lined the cave, their wax dripping down the wet stone walls as she pressed the soles of her bare feet into the damp sand and soil that covered the ground. It stuck to her and chilled her flesh, leaving goosebumps to rise as she shivered in the glow of the candlelight. Moss and salt filled her nose, but it had a tinge of unfamiliarity with it, like something was off in the way it smelled.

She stepped forward, letting the hem of her skirt brush against the wet ground as her fingers skimmed the ridged edge of the cave when she turned a corner. Something prickled the back of her neck, something like a breath or a strange warm breeze. She didn’t turn around.

Instead she continued forward, into the blackness that took place just outside the small opening of the cave. Here there lie true darkness, so dark that she couldn’t make out her own fingers in front of her face. Her breath caught in her throat and her hair stood on end.

 _“Come closer,”_ something whispered, sounding like that of water against rocks, drawing her ever further into the blackness. _“Come closer and find.”_

Fingers extended, she stretched out her arm to explore the area in front of her.

Her bottom lip trembled as her hand pressed against something slick and cold. It was hard like stone, but not quite. She heard a crack, like glass breaking, and everything washed away.

 

“Darcy, your break is over.” This voice was far sharper than the one she had heard before, jerking her into the waking world with a sharp inhale and a grating pain at her temples. She squinted into the light that was pouring into the pantry door that one of her coworkers, Erin, was holding open. “C’mon, I need a smoke and Ellen just finished her shift.”

Sitting up, Darcy took a moment to take in her surroundings, reminded that she wasn’t at home. Well great, she’d passed out during her break. In the permanently coffee-scented pantry, no less.

“Yeah, yeah. Give me a sec,” she grumbled as she forced herself to stand, stuffing her cellphone into the back pocket of her jeans. She adjusted the dark blue apron that she was wearing, tightening the laces around her waist. “Go on, take your break. I’ll manage the front.”

“Thanks,” Erin said, though it was almost a sarcastic snap.

Darcy didn’t respond, other than brushing past her. She was far more focused on the fact that she had managed to pass out in the pantry when she had been sure she’d been looking at Instagram beforehand.

This wasn’t the first time she had done that – gone off into her own little world while supposedly doing something else. It was almost common nowadays, though usually she was able to snap out of it quickly.

Not this time.

When she got to the front counter, she’d already acquired a short line. Time for smiles and a façade of cheer. That was easy to do, at least. Darcy had always been good at being cheerful even while distracted.

Maybe she should make herself another cup of joe too, just to get rid of the lingering grogginess.

“Hey _pumpkin_ , can I get some service here? I’ve been waiting for ten minutes,” an older gentleman said in a voice that made her smile feel just a tad bit too forced. Okay, she’d definitely need that coffee.

The rest of her shift consisted of serving up one coffee and pastry after another, singing along under her breath to whatever pop song was playing on the radio, and getting covered in whipped cream. When the thunder and rain outside turned into a storm, and as the patrons slowly filed out to head to their respective homes, Darcy began to close down the tiny café.

She’d worked here for years, under the supervision of her aunt Gloria – who happened to own the establishment. Seeing as it was the only coffee house in the quaint little town of Dornwich, it got plenty of business to pay the bills.

Darcy locked up the front door of the café, listening to the rain fall from the awning, promising her that she’d be soaked within minutes as soon as she stepped out onto the sidewalk. She wasn’t looking forward to the cold slick of it, but that’s what she got for walking to work today.

It was late. Not terribly late, yet late enough for the street lights to glow strong and for the streets to appear empty. A few cars drove by here and there, but they were broken by the hiss of rain and the gurgle of the drains that lined the sidewalk.

Darcy had been fortunate enough earlier that day to bring her umbrella, which kept most of the rain off of her. The harsh drops still slid past the clear plastic, coming in sideways to sprinkle against her black wool coat.

Her heeled boots clicked on the wet sidewalk as she began down the street, shoving an earbud into her ear before reaching into her pocket and turning up her music. Today felt like it had been too long, yet too short. A blur that had her thoughts muddled.

The dream, or _vision_ , from earlier was still bothering her. She’d managed to not think much about it while working, because she knew where that would lead her. Now it was all she couldn’t think about.

It wasn’t the first time she had seen it. She’d been dreaming about this cave for weeks now and she still had no answers. It was always the same, coming more often than what she was used to.

The wind was howling, pushing against her as she walked, causing her to hold tighter to the umbrella. Even the row of maples that lined the sidewalk to her left couldn’t stop the harshness of the wind. She squinted her eyes, stepping over a rather large puddle.

There was a crispness in the air that made the hair at the back of her neck stand on end, even when she tried to ignore it. It was a sort of static that had her breath hitched in her throat. At first she thought that she was imagining it, but it only got worse as she walked further.

She was close to the park.

The townsfolk of Dornwich knew to not go near the park once it got dark. It was never spoken of, but no one dared to enter the tree dense area. Sometimes the older folk would tell the children of willowy tall figures that peeked out of the trees. Darcy was too old for those stories, but she still heeded them.

Don’t look at the park. Don’t step into the park. Don’t think of the park.

She lowered her gaze as she walked passed the iron-gated entrance, swallowing hard against the creeping feeling at the back of her mind that told her to look, to see what might be within the park at such late hours. She knew better, though.

Darcy lived just outside the park, where the trees threatened to take over her backyard and remind her that the forest was ever creeping in on the town. Not that it mattered. Despite what Aunt Gloria preached, the forest wasn’t dangerous. It was all just old wives’ tales.

She was all too happy to see her front porch, the warm yellow lights of the house inviting her closer until she was pushing the front door open with her shoulders as she closed her umbrella. Aunt Gloria had her suspicions and one of them was to never have an open umbrella in the house.

Darcy thought that was silly, yet never disobeyed.

“Aunt Gloria! I’m home!” she called as she tossed the umbrella in the coat closet and stripped off her jacket. The house smelled like blackberry pie, making her mouth water. Gloria must have been baking today.

“In the kitchen,” her aunt called in return.

Darcy hung up her coat and stepped around the corner to enter the small kitchen that she found to be covered in baking supplies and freshly made cookies and pie. She grinned as she snatched up a chocolate chip cookie and took a big bite.

“We’re having pie for dinner,” Gloria said around a cigar, thin lips puckered. She was sitting at the kitchen table, curly blonde hair piled high atop her head and last week’s newspaper spread out in front of her. She was circling something with a red sharpie.

“Cool,” Darcy was already on her second cookie, having not realized how hungry she was until now. She knew cookies and pie weren’t the most substantial dinner, but it’d be fine until she had more energy to make something half decent.

The two stood there in companionable silence for several minutes as Darcy munched on cookies, making a small dent in the stack by the already full cookie jar. Most of this stuff was probably for the café, since Aunt Gloria made the baked goods that was sold there, but it wouldn’t kill to maybe eat a few dozen. At least, that’s what Darcy figured.

This was a regular occurrence in their little Victorian-esque house, where every day looked like Halloween and one could always be sure to find some sort of object that made them go _“what on earth is this and why do you have it here?”_

Aunt Gloria was known in the town for being a little… eccentric. She could top any weird thing by doing something doubly as odd. Such as the year that she was accused of being a witch – because apparently Dornwich still believed in that – and she decided to dress up as one for Halloween. Oh what a fun year that had been for Darcy, awkwardly eyeing her friends and laughing uncomfortably at her aunts behavior.

Of course Aunt Gloria strove for the attention. She wanted people to see her as loud and peculiar. She even smoked cigars instead of cigarettes because, as she once told Darcy, it gave her more of an ‘edge.’

Darcy used to hate it, but as she grew older she learned to appreciate her aunt’s oddness. It was endearing now, in her opinion. Gloria had become her confidant after Darcy had given up the desire to be ‘normal.’ No one in this town was normal. No one who stayed, anyway.

“I had that weird dream again,” she said around a mouthful of cookie.

Aunt Gloria looked up from her newspaper and stared blankly at the wall across from her. The silence stretched for a moment, filled in only by the tick of the clock. Then Gloria placed her fingers around her cigar, pulled it from her lips, and exhaled a bout of smoke that twirled in the air. “When?”

“I dunno. I wasn’t exactly watching the clock. It was during work.” Darcy shrugged her shoulders as she went to the fridge and pulled open the door, peering inside for something to drink. She found a can of coke and popped it open. “It was longer this time.”

“What did you see?” Gloria watched her with her narrow brown eyes, flicking ash from her cigar.

Darcy sat down across from her, sipping from her can of soda. Her own eyes were squinted as she recalled the ‘dream.’ It wasn’t a dream, but it was still hard for her to call them visions as Aunt Gloria did. A gift from the world, she’d say. Darcy could believe in aliens and maybe even a few cryptids. Having supernatural powers that gave her visions? That felt a little farfetched.

“I found something in the cave,” she said with an almost exasperated sigh. “I don’t know what it was. Something glass, I guess. It cracked and I woke up.”

Gloria pursed her lips, nodding her head as she looked down at the table, scrutinizing it as if it would give her the answers to Darcy’s unspoken questions. “It is coming soon, then.”

Darcy gave an almost choked laugh. “Sorry, what?”

Gloria placed her cigar to her lips and took a long drag. Darcy had learned long ago that that little gesture was pretty much the same as Gloria telling her that she wasn’t going to say a damn thing. So Darcy sighed and drank her coke.

Sometimes Aunt Gloria could be cryptic in ways that were positively irritating, but Darcy tried not to let it get to her too much. “I’m going to call it an early night. Had to take both Helen’s and Rick’s shifts this morning.”

“I should fire the both of them,” Gloria tutted.

Darcy pushed herself to her feet, despite their throbbing ache from standing all day. “Nah, they’re cool.”

Gloria gave a breathy laugh and returned to her newspaper, snatching up her red sharpie to mark up another article. Darcy didn’t ask what she was doing, because it never really did help to ask. She’d most likely just get another cryptic answer that left her more confused than before.

“Night!” she sang as she headed towards the stairs, carrying her coke in hand. She listened for Gloria’s returning farewell before she climbed the stairs two at a time.

 

* * *

 

That night she was oddly restless, despite how tired she was. She dreamt of dark forests and twisting trees that tangled around her legs and pulled her into the soil, rooting her like she was one of them. Her nightmares were filled with shrieking screams and the ever present call of the whippoorwill.

She was running through the thick forest, darkness threatening to swallow her whole as she panted for breath. The flicker of movement behind her, a beast of horror that clawed its way towards her.

Darcy bolted up in bed, the chill of the evening doing nothing to cool the sweat that clung to her skin, making her cotton tee stick to her chest. It took her several long minutes to stop seeing the forest, though the swaying shadows of the branches outside her window – cast upon the wall across from her bed – did nothing to calm the race of her heart.

The rain was still pelting the side of the house and the wind outside was howling, making the windchimes in front of her window spin and spin, clanking together loudly.

She pushed her curls away from her face and she swung her legs out of bed, pressing the soles of her feet against the cold hardwood floor. She felt something clawing at the back of her mind, a persistent itch that wasn’t fading even as she became more alert.

It was the sensation that one gets when they feel like they’re being watched, but when they _know_ nothing is there. That creeping feeling of something not being quite right. She had the urge to turn and look out her window, but kept herself rooted there, taking in shaky breaths.

She didn’t grab for her glasses that sat on the nightstand, almost afraid to be completely aware of her surroundings. That feeling was only getting worse, as if the nightmares had made themselves a reality and were begging for her attention.

Pushing herself from the bed, she wandered over to her window.

Darcy and Gloria lived on a small block that had mostly been taken over by the forest, some of the houses and residents so old that they didn’t bother to chop back the trees, allowing them to grow in on their backyards. Darcy had grown up on this street since the time that she was seven. She knew everyone here.

But she didn’t know the person that was standing on the sidewalk between their house and her neighbor’s. They were tall and shrouded in darkness, yet Darcy could still feel their gaze on her bedroom window. She couldn’t make out features without her glasses, so she backed away from the window and reached almost blindly for her glasses, only turning her gaze away from the window when she didn’t feel for them right away.

Placing them on, she stepped back towards the window, only to find that the person was gone. Her breath was hitched in her throat, her hands shaky as she pressed them against the sill. This was a dream, right? She was just freaked out from her nightmares, imagining things outside.

Pressing her lips together, Darcy pulled away from the window and flopped back down onto her bed. She _had_ to have been imagining them, because that feeling was gone now. She didn’t feel as uneasy as before. Just like the disappearance of a nightmare.

She plucked her glasses from her face once more and dropped them onto her nightstand, letting her eyes fall closed as a pent up sigh left her lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter to get us started, but I promise the next one will be longer (it's already in the works). I had a bit of a struggle writing this opening, because it's a super heavy AU, but I'm pretty excited for this story. I've got it all fleshed out and I'm really excited to get to the good bits.  
> If you like fairy-tales, a little mystery, strange towns with secrets, and romance, then stay around because there will be plenty of that. Oh, and smut. Definitely smut. *fingerguns*  
> Excuse me... I'm bad at notes. The next chapter will be up soon!


	2. New Arrival

When Darcy woke the next morning, she was groggy and just a little bit grouchy. She’d never been a good morning person, but last night’s bout of sleeplessness certainly wasn’t helping. The yawns were coming in every couple of seconds and she nearly stumbled down the stairs. Coffee. She’d need some of the strong brew to even feel an ounce of morning cheer. Was that even possible? She doubted it.

“He seemed okay last time I saw him,” Gloria’s voice said from the living room. Darcy squinted her eyes, listening to the calm voice of someone else.

Instead of making a beeline to the kitchen, she stepped around the wall that separated the small hallway between the stairs and the living room. Gloria was sitting on the couch and an officer was sitting on the chair across from her, a notepad in hand.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Darcy asked, pausing where she was, because quite frankly she was _not_ dressed appropriately. She was still wearing the two-sizes too big tee shirt she’d slept in and a pair of plaid cotton shorts.

She knew the officer – because almost everyone knew everyone in this town – and she watched as the man turned to look at her, giving a forced smile. “Good morning, Darcy.”

“Good morning, Todd.” Darcy sounded just a little strained, concern flickering across her features. Did Aunt Gloria do something? She couldn’t imagine the woman doing anything _too_ illegal to warrant a visit from Officer Todd Johnson.

Gloria was sitting up a little straighter with Darcy here, offering up a kind smile that only slightly eased the younger woman’s unease. “Officer Johnson is here to ask some questions about Mr. Allen.”

“Did something happen?” Darcy was frowning now as she walked over to sit down next to Gloria, her gaze flickering back and forth from the two.

Officer Johnson shifted uncomfortably, which was odd to see; usually he was the calmest officer in Dornwich. He always took everything with stride. Something had made him uneasy. Luckily, Darcy didn’t have to wait long to know what.

“Mr. Allen disappeared this morning,” he said. “His daughter when to wake him up and he wasn’t in his bed. His wheelchair was still in his room. There were no signs of struggle or a break-in.”

Darcy’s heart skipped a few beats as she remembered the figure standing between their two houses, how it had disappeared. But Mr. Allen hadn’t been able to walk for years. He’d lost his legs while serving in the military.

“I saw someone last night,” Darcy blurted, wringing her hands in her lap. “It was around three or four this morning. I don’t know… But I saw someone standing on the street. I, uh, didn’t think anything of it, though.”

Officer Johnson was writing it down. “What did they look like?”

“I don’t know… I wasn’t wearing my glasses. When I grabbed them, the person was gone.” She felt horrible that she didn’t have more information. Mr. Allen had been her neighbor since she’d moved here. He used to tell her war stories when she was a kid. He was a cheerful old man with a smile that was contagious. How could he just be _gone?_

Gloria placed a hand on her shoulder and Darcy realized that she was letting her emotions on the subject show on her face. Gloria gave Officer Johnson a sad smile. “Is there anything we can do?”

“If you see anything more, just give us a call.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes. He gave a moment’s pause to watch Gloria nod, before standing from his seat. “Thank you, ladies.”

“Of course.” Gloria stood as well and walked the officer to the door while Darcy stayed where she was.

She wished she could be more help. It seemed so odd that Mr. Allen would disappear like that. It had her heart racing, because this wasn’t the first time someone in Dornwich had just disappeared without a trace. But that had been _years_ ago.

When Gloria returned, she eyed Darcy carefully, perhaps sensing where the young woman’s mind was. “It’s not the same, Darce…”

“What if it is? Mom went missing too. Just bam, gone. I saw Mr. Allen yesterday before work. He was being his usual cheerful self. How can someone just disappear like that?” Darcy ran her hands anxiously through her hair, but her fingers caught on the tangles left over from sleeping.

“Your mother went missing seventeen years ago… I’m sure there’s no correlation.” Somehow Gloria didn’t sound entirely convincing. She had that worried look in her eyes that Darcy only saw rarely, usually over things that she didn’t understand. Darcy may have lived with her for seventeen years, but she still didn’t understand everything the woman did.

Taking in a shaky breath, Darcy forced herself to stand from the couch. She really needed that coffee now. She might even take it black and down it in one go. She felt so drained and she had only just woken up.

To make matters worse, she had work in an hour.

Gloria followed her into the kitchen, her worn boots clicking against the old wood floors. She was quiet as Darcy made herself busy with making coffee, clanging around cups and pots as she prepared the machine.

“I have to go away for a bit,” came her aunt’s soft voice, causing her to tense as she stopped mid coffee ground scoop.

“Where to?” Darcy asked, wishing she didn’t sound so affected by it. Gloria took trips often, but right now seemed like an odd time to go – let alone the wrong time to tell her.

“Just a business trip.”

So she didn’t want to tell her where. Great. Darcy wasn’t sure why she bothered asking. She loved Aunt Gloria, but her urge to be mysterious all the time sometimes ground down on her nerves and made her feel like the child she wasn’t.

With a deep breath, she nodded. “I’ll take care of the house then. When do you leave?”

“This afternoon,” said Gloria, sounding almost flippant.

Again, Darcy nodded. She’d started the machine and now listened to it rumble and heat. She wasn’t sure what more to say, so she stayed silent. Eventually it had Gloria walking out of the room, perhaps to finish getting ready.

 

* * *

 

Darcy couldn’t bring herself to stop thinking about Mr. Allan. Even as she worked the front counter of the Mad Flower Café, she couldn’t stop replaying the last brief conversation she had had with him. It seemed to occupy her mind even when she thought she was focusing on something else. It didn’t help that most of the townsfolk were also discussing the disappearance.

One of the issues with living in a small town – and a town such as Dornwich – made word travel fast. Of course Darcy had to listen to the inaccurate assumptions some of them had, and how some even decided that they would stand in front of her counter and try engaging her in conversation about it as she slaved over the coffee machines.

At least she had breaks between rush hours, where she was able to clean in peace and restock what she needed to. It was during one of these ‘breaks’ that she had the sudden image that someone was going to walk through that front door that would change something – what? She wasn’t sure. Sometimes these flashes of things were so brief that she hardly got to register them.

This was one of those times.

She was in the middle of cleaning the expresso machine when it hit her. She saw the flash of gentle blue eyes and a kind smile, then the bell over the café door was chiming and she turned to look over her shoulder.

The man that had entered had her heart in her throat, because he had those beautiful blue eyes that she had just imagined. Eyes that were flickering around the café curiously as he approached the front counter. Her was tall, with wide shoulders and a broad chest, blond hair cropped short.

He had the type of look about him that was so _American_ it was almost painful. He was like a damn picture perfect example of boy-next-door, with a smile that lit up her chest when he aimed it at her.

“Hi, welcome to Mad Flower Coffee! How can I help you today?” Darcy met his smile with her own, having turned away from the expresso machine to greet him. He was even more beautiful up close, his eyes holding a certain twinkle that was almost impossible to ignore.

“Hey,” even his voice was charming. “I’m new to Dornwich and I heard this is the best place to get a cup of coffee.”

Darcy grinned, cocking a hip as she placed her hands on her waist. “It’s the _only_ place to get coffee. Unless you go to the donut place down on 7’th, but between you in me, their coffee tastes a little like dirt. What can I get you, hun?”

His smile was even more sincere now than it had been before, flashing his perfect white teeth. “Surprise me?”

Darcy pursed her lips as she looked him over in an attempt to read what sort of coffee he might be into. Instinct told her that a plain black would be the most accurate, yet he _had_ told her to surprise him. “How about… an Americano?”

“Perfect,” he agreed cheerily. “Can you make that a medium?”

“Of course, hun.” Darcy rang up the order with the practiced ease of someone who’d worked far too long in this sort of business. She watched as he fished his wallet out of his back pocket and handed her a silver debit card. “So you’re new to Dornwich. Where ya from?”

“Brooklyn,” he told her as she ran his card. He wouldn’t look her directly in the eyes for too long and Darcy realized that this beautiful hunk might actually be a little shy.

That only made her smile a little more. “You’re a bit far away from Brooklyn, don’t you think?”

“I’m an artist,” he said with a shrug. “I travel around a lot.”

Darcy handed his card back and walked over to one of the other counters to begin his coffee. That didn’t stop her from continuing the conversation. “Let me guess, you came here because of the fall décor? We’ve got all the works.”

“I’ll admit that I’m interested in it,” he chuckled. “But I’m more interested in the lore of this town.”

“Well, then I hope we can please.” Darcy flashed him an almost flirty smile as she poured hot water into a paper cup with the café’s logo. “How long are you staying?”

He shrugged, but that slight smile was still on his face, his eyes kind and inviting. “Not sure. I’ve got some business up here to attend to. I’ll probably stay until after the Halloween celebrations. I heard Dornwich gives the best parade.”

Darcy poured two shots of expresso into the cup and snapped on a lid before sliding it his way. “You heard right. We’re practically Halloweentown.” When he gave her a confused look, she flushed. “It’s a movie. If you’re into cheesy Disney movies, you should check it out.”

“I’ll be sure to do that,” he told her with a chuckle before taking a sip of his coffee. The hum that followed made her heart skip a beat. “This is _really_ good.”

“If you like it, then don’t be shy. Stop by anytime and I’ll make you a cup.” Darcy hoped she wasn’t coming off too strong, but the twinkle in his eyes suggested that he hardly minded. “We’ve got the best expresso in town.”

Shit, she’d already said that.

He flashed her a grin. “Then I’ll definitely stop by again. Thanks. I better, uh, get going…” The way he looked at her made her think that he didn’t exactly want to do that. She realized then that there was a customer waiting. “See you around.”

“Yeah, you too.” She gave a small nod and watched as he turned towards the door, taking another sip of his coffee. She was not entirely unobvious about the way her eyes trailed down to his backside. She blinked her distraction away and rushed to help the next costumer.

She really hoped to see him again, because with sudden alarm she realized that she hadn’t caught his name.

 

* * *

 

When Darcy returned home from work, she found Gloria to have already left. She wasn’t surprised, seeing as how it was already dark outside and she had said she was leaving at noon. Darcy wasn’t sure how to feel about being alone in the house after their neighbor had just gone missing, but she tried to hide that nervousness by blasting music that she wouldn’t dare listening to this loud while Gloria was home.

With the house to herself, Darcy decided to force all of her worries onto the back burner in order to enjoy the remainder of the day. She had stopped by the store before heading home, stocking up on a bunch of junk food that she could stuff her face with while she binge watched cheesy rom-coms.

It was easier to ignore all of the nagging thoughts in the back of her head while shoving ice cream into her mouth.

She danced to her music as she heated up the boxes of store-bought Chinese fried rice, which was the closest she could get to Chinese food here in Dornwich. She moved around the kitchen, playing air guitar to certain rifts as her song played.

Spinning around, she let the music consume her mind as she danced, her eyes fluttering shut. She wasn’t sure what had shifted, but her music melted away and turned into something else, something classical.

An arm enclosed around her waist and suddenly she was spinning around and around. Her eyes slowly opened and she found herself somewhere else. Someone else. She was in a grand hall and she was surrounded by other dancers, adorned in elegant dresses and suits. Masks covered all of their faces, mimicking animals.

Her gaze flickered up to the man who was dancing with her, expertly moving her around the room, making her blue dress twirl around her legs. His mask was some type of large bird skull, the eyes blacked out, making it impossible to see his real ones.

But she could see the blond of his hair, neatly parted and brushed back. Golden locks that sparkled in the light of the crystal chandeliers above them. His full lips pulled back into a smile and she recognized it instantly.

Leaning in, the side of his mask brushed her cheek as he pulled her closer. He was so warm and for a moment she wasn’t sure if this was a vision or not. He felt so _real_.

“Don’t worry, you look beautiful,” he whispered to her.

Her heart was in her throat and she couldn’t keep her eyes from fluttering shut again, but then there was a loud beeping and when she opened her eyes everything was gone and she was standing there in her kitchen. Alone. Her modern music blared back to life and the world seemed to snap back into place, leaving her gulping for air as if it had been sucked from her.

“Holy shit,” she gasped, having to grab the corner of the counter to keep herself steady. The microwave was flashing the 00:00 on its small screen, indicating that her food was ready and that it was what had snapped her out of her vision. She wasn’t sure she was hungry anymore.

That masked man, he was the guy from the coffee shop. There was no doubting it after having heard his voice so clearly in her ear, after watching him smile. She felt like her heart couldn’t be lodged into her throat any further.

She wasn’t sure if she could trust what she had seen or not, but she needed to find him and get a name. Pronto.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, hey Steve! Whatcha doin' in a small haunted town, tormenting a young woman's visions? Rude.


	3. Strange Things

Darcy had long since grown used to the oddity that was the town of Dornwich. Living seventeen years in a place like this would do that to you, no matter how many times you pressed your lips together and shook your head in sure indignation that something _terribly_ wrong was going on about eighty percent of the time. She’d grown up in a city, where weird things were easily explained.

Not in Dornwich.

Her mother, however, had tried to raise her as normally as she could. But it was a single parent household and sometimes Darcy had wondered if something was wrong with her mother’s medication. Sometimes she told Darcy things that truly scared her, things that made the visions in her head only a little worse. They were quick warnings that made Darcy clamp her mouth shut and never ask why her mother pressed rosary beads to her lips every night and told her to pray to God or else the Devil himself might take her. She supposed now, as an adult, there never really was any question in that. Her mother, after all, had been quite the religious woman.

Going from a woman like that to the hands of Aunt Gloria was a rather sudden and almost unwelcomed shift. Aunt Gloria was her only living relative and even that was somewhat questionable. Darcy remembered once describing her as a thin-mouthed woman with curly blonde hair and a wardrobe that consisted of barely concealing outfits. She always smelled of cigar smoke, lavender, and wet soil.

She had hands that could grip Darcy’s shoulders like an iron vice, but she was never stern with the girl. No, actually she was quite the opposite.

See Aunt Gloria believed that children should be left to their own devices, that it helped them grow as people and taught them to be more self-sufficient.

Darcy didn’t really mind it, because the woman gave her plenty of room to heal after her mother’s disappearance. As she grew older, she learned to appreciate Gloria’s almost flippant way of doing things. Of course Aunt Gloria had other little perks that Darcy had to become accustom to.

Such as the palm readings in the middle of the Mad Flower Café. The little town of Dornwich really did like their palm readings and Gloria was never short of business, oddly enough.

But that was just one of the many strange things Darcy had to grow used to as she continued to live here.

Gloria called herself a Good Witch, and though Darcy often thought that a joke, it didn’t hide the fact that Darcy and Aunt Gloria shared something in common.

They could both tell the future.

The older woman was far better at tuning in her magics, as she called it. She knew how to scry into a bowl of water and see things that were beyond Darcy’s ability. She was skilled in pulling the correct cards and spilling the right dice. Though you could never really get anything straight from the woman. Even while pan handling money from the highly superstitious, and mind you, _religious_ townsfolk, Gloria never did tell the _whole_ truth about her visions. She never said when, where, or why.

Darcy had thought for many years that maybe Aunt Gloria didn’t know the truth, but when the older woman found that Darcy too could see the future, she began to ask Darcy what she saw in finite detail. Darcy could never tell her what she wanted, because she didn’t know true visions like Gloria’s.

Aunt Gloria had then gone on and on about how this was why one should never be with a non-magic user because then their offspring were unable to tap into their true nature. After that, Gloria did not mind too much about what Darcy might see. It was never enough to go off of anyway.

Her visions mixed in with dreams and her imagination, leaving them nearly impossible to decipher as real or fake. It was nearly maddening.

But Darcy adapted. She had to, what with all the other fucked up shit going on.

After all, one couldn’t worry about visions when they were too busy mixing sea salt with tap water in an empty Febreze bottle so they can go up into the attic and spray the rafters. It will keep the evil angels away, said old woman at church, who truly feared for Darcy’s soul and had convinced the young thing that she’d die too young.

One couldn’t be bothered by visions when they were too busy reminded themselves to ignore the nagging at the back of their mind that tells them to _turn and look_ when walking by the forest. One can’t focus on visions when the old man at the edge of town, the one with too many teeth when he smiles, tells you how pretty you are in your Sunday best and warns you not to go into the cornfields at night.

Visions won’t help when you have to fake a smile to a traveler when they ask for ‘unsweet’ tea, only to watch as the older barista huffs out something about Yankees and spits in their tea.

These were the _average_ occurrences in Dornwich. The _simple_ stuff. Everyone knew this. It was common knowledge and something that Darcy had spent seventeen years getting used to.

Well, ‘cept for the sweet tea thing. Who the hell asks for unsweetened tea? Savages, that’s who. Those who need a damn bible and to pray to God, because they have clearly lost the way.

Dornwich seemed like a sweet southern town just scraped off the top of crazy, what with their obsession with the fall season. The God-fearing nature of the town was just typical southern ways. Hell, there was a sign just down the street from Darcy’s house that said, “ _Wake up, Sinners. The Devil gets his due_.”

But under all the southern hospitality, was something that made the townsfolk fear the forest and keep to their age-old traditions. One of them being to honor the ghosts and demons that came out during All Hallow’s Eve.

The whole town came alive for the entirety of October, like how some towns did for Christmas.

The storefronts were decorated in pumpkins, bats, and black cats. Cartoonish ghosts hung upon the eaves and scarecrows no longer just sprouted in the fields, but randomly in front of restaurants and houses. The town became a bright canvas of oranges, reds, and browns.

People smiled a little tighter, gazes became a little too judgmental. There was this unspoken agreement that no one talked about _why_ they celebrated so eagerly. They didn’t talk about the way the night seemed to feel just a little more static and the air a little too thick. They didn’t converse about how the cornfields and whispered like they wanted to tell secrets no one wanted to hear.

Some nights music played so low that it was just barely heard of the scream of cicadas, something that made some want to follow, to search beyond the tree line for that whimsical sound that made one want to dance and cry. Never follow it. Never.

Darcy thought, as she walked down the cobbled stone sidewalk, that maybe Mr. Allen had followed that song. But no, that wasn’t possible. He was a strict veteran who had enough demons on his head, he would be weary of the odd sounds that came with this town. He grew up here, didn’t he? Most didn’t stay if they hadn’t grown here, like daisies plucked up and left to dry in the sun. No one stayed here willingly. You just ended up here and you stayed for generations. If your kids grew up and left, then they only returned for visits.

Thinking about Mr. Allen only led Darcy to think about the new guy that had come into town. She wanted to ask Officer Johnson about him, yet didn’t want to tip off that she was suspicious of him and his _gorgeous_ smile.

She didn’t have work today, or else she would have waited in that cramped little coffee shop with hopes that he’d show up wanting another Americano.

Since she couldn’t do that, she went against her better judgement and decided to run around doing errands in naïve hope that she’d bump into him while out. Of course that was a silly thought, considering the fact that even though the town was small, it wasn’t _that_ small. There were plenty of areas for a big man like him to hide, unfortunately.

She stopped by the old library near the church, where the windows were always dusty and the books in the front were sun-bleached. The moment she stepped into the old building, she was hit by the thick scent of old pages and dust, like a ghost that hooked fingers around her face and pushed her forward, passed the front desk.

Darcy couldn’t ever remember seeing a librarian here, but there must be one because people still borrowed books. The library would never be beaten by the shiny new bookstore down in the shopping center of town. No, age old books like these, where the town’s ancestry was transcribed into dark ink and rotting pages, would never go out of fashion.

Still, she was sure she was alone in the building, despite the indescribable feeling of there being someone here, just around the corner of a shelf. She ignored that feeling and stepped through the many rows of countless books, sectioned off into categories that she didn’t read over.

What had brought her in here? She couldn’t remember, yet that sensation of being tugged forward persisted, drawing her to a long shelf of books at the back of the first floor, behind a set of stairs. The light from the window above barely helped in the gloom of this area, where her fingers skimmed over the spines of books that were probably older than her great, great, grandmother – whoever she was. Rest her soul.

Darcy’s fingers stopped at the weathered spine of a black leather-bound book. There was a wisp of coldness that brushed across her fingers, but she felt no urge to move on to another book. This was the one. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for, but this was the one.

Hooking her fingers around it, she pulled the old book from its tight spot within the others, watching as dust flittered to the ground. She took the book into both her hands, finding it heavier than she expected. But it was the image carved into the leather that captured her attention.

A skull with six tentacles coming off of it. The black paint that had been set into the carving was fading and chipping, giving only a slight indication as to how old the book was. She felt like holding the book itself was something she wasn’t supposed to do, yet she held it in her grip firmly, her throat tight.

Something told her not to open it here, even if the library was for sitting in corners to read until one’s heart was content. Not this book. She feared opening. Something about the image made her feel sick, but she couldn’t put it back.

No, something told her to take it with her.

So she did. She stuffed it into her bag, wincing at the fact that she was about to steal this book from the library instead of checking it out. Hopefully the librarian – whoever they were – wouldn’t be too upset.

She tried to seem nonchalant as she made her way to the front, though she noticed that she still didn’t see anyone around. The front desk was still empty.

Good.

Darcy pushed open the door and took one last look at the insides of the library as she stepped outside. She didn’t expect to bump into someone as soon as she stepped foot onto the sidewalk, practically barging into the person.

A cup of coffee went flying, landing with a splat on the road as Darcy began to apologize profusely. Her eyes snapped up to the face of the person she’d walked into, only to freeze when she saw it was the man she’d met yesterday.

“Are you alright?” he asked, reaching his hands out to place them on her upper arms, steadying her. She probably looked as shaken up as she felt.

“Oh fuck, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean-” Darcy gave a helpless huff as she gestured to his ruined coffee. “I’ll buy you a new one.”

He shook his head, that charming smile of his flashing across his face. “It’s alright. Are you okay?”

Darcy’s eyes met his and she was almost frozen by the fact that he was more concerned about her than anything else. It had her heart in her throat, her belly fluttering with butterflies. “Yeah, I’m okay. Thanks.” She took a step back, because she wasn’t sure how long she could stand him touching her without wanting to kiss all over his beautiful face, which was _not_ a feeling she was used to.

Something about this man made her feel entirely too comfortable.

“Seriously, let me buy you another coffee. I feel like shit for making you drop it,” she said, adjusting her back on her shoulder. The book inside felt heavy, its presence ever nagging at the back of her mind.

“Eh, it wasn’t a very good coffee to begin with.” He was walking out to where the cup was, picking it up to toss it into the garbage can that was under the lamppost. “Certainly not as good as the coffee _you_ made me.”

When he turned to look at her again, the smile on his face made her knees feel weak. Wait, no, stop it Darcy. She didn’t want to find him to flirt with him. She had questions!

“I never caught your name,” she told him. “I’m Darcy.”

He stepped closer, offering her his hand. “Steve Rogers.”

With a smile that was probably too dorky, she took his hand and gave it a shake. “I seriously can’t get you a new coffee? I feel terrible.”

“No, it’s alright. Really.” He held her hand for a second too long before releasing her. Her hand tingled where their skin had touched. “But you _can_ join me for lunch. I heard the diner down the street is pretty good.”

“If you like cheap burgers and milkshakes,” she laughed. “Sure. I’ll join you. Haven’t eaten today yet anyway.”

He grinned, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his brown jacket. “Perfect! It’d be nice to have some company. I’ve noticed the town isn’t fond of new comers.”

“You’ll get used to it.” Darcy pushed her glasses higher onto her nose as the two of them began towards the diner. This was not how she expected to meet him again, but it was just as good as any other meeting

Now she just had to get through lunch without saying something stupid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter came a lot easier than the last two. I think I'm finally falling into the rhythm of this.
> 
> I want to take a second to thank everyone for their reviews and kudos! It means so much to hear that you guys like this story. I was super nervous about putting it up and to hear this amazing feedback is definitely motivation to keep going! You all are amazing. Thank you so much! <3
> 
> Also, I'm hoping to post some art to this story more often. I've already got a few drawings in mind.  
> Here's a link to the full pic: http://emybunart.tumblr.com/post/164728477629


	4. Chapter 4

Much to Darcy’s surprise, the lunch wasn’t starting off as awkward as she would’ve thought it would. Steve was kind and overly gentlemanly. More so than just the southern hospitality that Darcy was used to. There was something about the way he acted that made her feel like he was pulled straight from the fifties, with that wonderful charm of his.

But boy could the man eat. He ordered the biggest burger on the menu, along with a large side of fries and a shake. Darcy found that a little amusing as she ordered a medium sized burger and a small side of fries. When asked what she wanted to drink, she quickly said coke before the woman could offer her a glass of their town famous iced tea.

Everyone in the diner had a glass or two at their table, but Darcy always refused to drink it. Not after the first time. Never again.

“Did you grow up here?” Steve asked her once the waitress left.

Darcy folded her arms on the table in front of her. “I’ve lived here for seventeen years. Before that I lived in West Virginia. I moved in with my Aunt Gloria after my mom went missing when I was eight. I went away for a bit for college, but… that didn’t work out very well.”

“Missed home too much?” he asked and she could tell it was a small tease.

She smiled in return. “Something like that. I guess you could say the town was too charming to resist.”

“Charming, yeah. It’s interesting enough, at least.” Steve squinted his eyes for a moment as he tore his gaze away from her and looked out the large window that was to the right of their booth – or his left, rather. “The town does have a way of drawing people in, doesn’t it?”

Darcy suddenly wished she had the food already so she could distract herself. So instead she snatched up the dessert menu to look over, not that she was going to order anything. “So, you mentioned you were an artist. What type of art do you do? You seem like the abstract kinda guy. Like those weird paintings that you see at museums that are trying really hard to be art when really they’re just splashes of color.”

That had him chuckling. “I paint. But, uh… more into realism than abstract. Sorry to disappoint.”

“Boo. I was hoping to see some weird art. So you’re not a troubled artist?” She raised her eyebrows at him.

“Never said that,” he returned with another chuckle. “I’m very troubled.”

“How troubled? I might be able to get into that.” She flashed him a grin and this time it was him who seemed halted. He stared at her openly, surprise flickering across his features. “But _only_ if your work is good enough.”

The waitress interrupted their conversation by bringing the strawberry shake and Darcy’s coke. She placed the beverages down before their respectful owners and scampered off again. Darcy pulled her soda closer to her as she momentarily glanced at Steve’s milkshake.

There was a red swirl against the glass that didn’t look like strawberry syrup, but Darcy didn’t say anything as she sipped at her coke, averting her eyes. Steve took a drink of his shake and hummed his appreciation.

Darcy stirred the ice around in her drink, suddenly very aware of the fact that she was here with the man from her vision and she could either crowd him with questions or… well, she wasn’t sure what else.

“Do you believe in fate?” she blurted out.

His perfect blue eyes flickered up to her, his easy smile nowhere to be seen in that moment. It was as if her question had changed something about him and she watched openly as he, too, watched her.

“It depends,” he finally said, sitting up just a little straighter. Darcy couldn’t help but notice how uncomfortable he was now, his eyes darting away from her briefly before returning to her face, as if weary of anyone who might be listening.

He had a right to be in a town like this.

Darcy lowered her voice. “Okay, this is going to be a really weird question, but do you think reincarnation or whatever could be real? I know, that’s super deep on only a second meeting-”

“I think it could be possible,” he said, though looked instantly bad for cutting her off. “Why?”

Now it was Darcy’s turn to be nervous, because she wasn’t sure how she was supposed to explain this. Though she supposed he could always just refuse to see her again and put her off as just some crazy small town girl. “I had… a strange, uh, _dream_ or something about you.”

“Like a vision?” He raised his eyebrows curiously.

She huffed out a sigh. “I guess.”

“I asked around about you.” That smile was back, but it was coupled with a sort of hesitancy that made Darcy stare at him.

Though, in truth she would have stared at him regardless because _what?_ “You asked around about me?”

He rubbed the back of his neck and she swore she saw a slight pink tint to his cheeks. “After we met at the café. I went back today and asked about you. Got into a conversation with a nice old lady. She’s quite the gossiper.”

“Harriet,” Darcy hissed like a curse, her eyes narrowing. “What did she tell you?”

“Only that you have ‘premonitions.’ Sometimes they’re wrong and sometimes they’re not. Said you help the costumers often and that your aunt is the same.” He offered her that easy smile, like it would help. “Did you see me?”

Darcy took a sip of her soda to wet her suddenly dry throat. “Something like that. A couple times now. One of them didn’t make sense, but I saw you before you came into the café. Just your eyes and smile, so it was nothing big. Then you walked in a few seconds later. That all sounds really crazy, now that I’m saying it aloud to you.”

Steve was grinning now. “Can you control it?”

“No,” Darcy laughed. She’d tried again and again and it never worked. Nothing made it easier to see the future. She just had to wait. Not that she _wanted_ to see the future. If anything, she’d trade this gift for a regular mind any day.

Steve’s smile fell and he looked momentarily perplexed. Darcy tried to decipher it, but his smile was back within a few seconds. “Still, that’s something. This town just gets stranger and stranger.”

“I’d like to think I’m _not_ strange,” Darcy said with a smirk. “I’m perfectly normal.”

“Alright, so what does a perfectly normal psychic see?” Steve challenged in return, folding his arms on the table. The two of them were leaning towards each other, as if sharing a secret between themselves. Maybe it would have been if most of the town hadn’t already known of Darcy’s strange nature.

Darcy hummed, pretending to think about it for a moment. “I see a lot of little things. Nothing too substantial. They mostly come like dreams. It’s hard to tell the difference.”

“Can you tell me about them?” he asked and she realized that he really was interested, without any judgement. There was a sort of ease in the way he asked and Darcy eyed him for a moment before relaxing.

She was used to the odd looks. It was nice to have someone show genuine curiosity. So she told him some of the things she had seen that had come true, hoping to lead up to the vision that she’d seen of him. But the more she talked, the more she realized that maybe it had just been a strange dream. All of his questions were soft and understanding. She enjoyed the conversation, but was more than happy when they got their food and it gave her a bit of an escape.

Darcy was finally getting the nerve to mention her vision of him when his phone rang. His expression shifted to worry as he looked at the screen.

“Sorry, I have to take this.” He stood from the booth and Darcy watched him press the phone to his ear as he answered. He walked out of the diner and she tried not to look at him as he stood outside, seeming to have a serious conversation with whoever was on the other line.

She finished her fries in the time it took for him to get back.

His expression was apologetic as he fished out his wallet. “Hey, I’m sorry… I have to go. This should cover the bill.”

“Is everything okay?” she asked, attempting to not sound too worried. She wasn’t, she told herself.

Steve flashed her that charming smile of his as he placed some cash on the table. “Just a work emergency. I’ll see you around, okay?”

Darcy gave a small nod and he was off. Luckily, he was out the door before he could see her frown. Wasn’t he an artist? Maybe there was a deadline he had to meet?

Her burger did not taste as good now that she was sitting alone in the booth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super short chapter, but I wanted to upload something to explain the absence.  
> It's been a stressful couple of weeks, with a lot going on. I had a bit of a depression episode where I could not get enough energy to do anything. Luckily, it's passed! So I should be able to get back into this.  
> I'm really eager to get to the good bits. Next chapter will be about the book Darcy found, which also means mentions of Bucky. I am gonna get this story moving because I'm super excited to get to the heart of it. I also don't want to make this a super crazy long project like I have with previous stories (because I never finish them when I do that). I imagine this story is gonna be around 20-25 chapters, though. Especially with all the stuff I have planned, but this DOES have a planned ending!  
> Anyway, I just wanted to give a small update. I'm hoping to get the next chapter up soon!


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